


When it Rains it Pours

by AussieDollVA



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Deviates From Canon, Did I say angst? (buries reader in character's anguish), Fluff, Foster!Keith, Hurt/Comfort, Keith finds his sort-of forever-home, Keith finds other alien-human hybrids, Keith has druid potential, Kid!Keith, More angst, More characters and tags will be added as fic goes on, No Smut, Not as long as Semantically Challenged, Other, Our boi went through some shit, PTSD, Story is going to be long, pure angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-01 12:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AussieDollVA/pseuds/AussieDollVA
Summary: Summary: Keith Kogane has never known family. He’s known people who used him as a piece of income for beer and drugs. He’s known the fading sunset and a man beside a dusty shack, rusted hoverbike parked nearby. He’s known the empty feeling of not belonging, that it’s better to keep one’s head down if they wanted to survive the basic education system. He knows everything is temporary. All things leave, even him.





	1. It's Cold.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect to write this. It was 31st December, 2018, and I fully expected to just chill, maybe watch some youtube or read some fanfiction or actually do my assignment that's due at the end of next week. 
> 
> You all can thank blue_noize and TeamAlphaQ for being a constant inspiration. A link to their works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceDarling_and_GrumpyCat/pseuds/SpaceDarling_and_GrumpyCat  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_noize  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamAlphaQ/pseuds/TeamAlphaQ
> 
> (space darling and grumpy cat is their shared account. i urge you to check out all their works because they're so amazing)
> 
> This is all because we (blue and I) saw this one image: https://goo.gl/images/oUwJSW  
> and we both cried because of how sad it was and it inspired me to write and omg I cried so much writing this and seeing that image right there in the corner of the screen to keep me writing. It took me 7 hours to write this. 7 hours since we discovered that image and I started writing through the tears. 
> 
> And this chapter won't even have the worst of it. 
> 
> Keith is going to go through hell and he's not even a teenager yet. (blobsweat emoji)
> 
> Enjoy!

The sound of rain beating on the window could be labelled as white noise, rhythmically washing away grime and dirt from months of drought. The window’s glass was fogged up enough to see prior markings from the room’s current resident; a failed game of tic-tac-toe in one corner, idle stars in another. If one squinted, they could see the faint outline of stick figures clustered together. 

A figure sat on the bed shoved beneath the window. He couldn’t help but stare at the fog covering his window, almost glad he couldn’t see the world beyond. He wanted to stop thinking about today. He wanted to stop thinking about class, about his sodden jacket that chilled him worse than being thrown in the snow, about the fading bruises streaked across his ribs…

If he could get away with not thinking for the rest of his life, it would improve his mood. Not completely, but enough to keep going.

Actually, if he could get out of this dump, that might work too. The likelihood of going somewhere worse outweighed the possibility of a better house, though. 

With a bitter sigh, he resigned himself to his fate.

The sudden sound of a door opening below him made his whole body tense. The yelling that followed turned him rigid. Dark eyes darted to the left, locating his room’s bolted door even in the self-imposed darkness. Thumping footsteps sounded from beyond, accompanied by the sound of glass smashing. He didn’t flinch. If you asked him, he’d deny it. He wasn’t scared, even when the grim cacophony grew closer. 

When the door’s lock clicked open, his mind wandered to a man smiling down at him, dusty clothes and fond expression. It was faint – faint enough to be ripped from him as his door was slammed open, nearly torn off its hinges. He schooled his expression into an unconditional deadpan, storing every bit of dread and childish terror into the deepest crevices of his mind. They wouldn’t help him now.

A rough meaty hand wrapped around his exposed forearm peeking from his folded jacket sleeves and yanked with more force than was probably necessary, in his honest opinion. A pudgy red face ensconced his vision, booming words tearing into his ears as spittle sprayed his cheek. Distantly, he was aware of the room’s light being turned on. It still took time for his mind to translate the too-loud noises into legible words.

_**“YOU LITTLE SHIT! WHAT DID YOU DO? WHO DID YOU TELL? WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? WE TOOK YOU IN OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF OUR HEARTS! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU GO AGAINST US. YOU BETTER HOPE WE PASS THIS INSPECTION—”** _

“Eric! Calm down!” A feminine voice piped up from the doorway. She’d probably been the one to turn on the light.

 _ **“WHAT THE FUCK, HEIDI? DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE THE SOCIAL WORKER IS ON HER WAY?!”**_ Eric did not calm down. In fact, his face seemed to swell into an ugly purple mass of pulsing veins and twitching nerves. If this scared her, it didn’t show in Heidi’s voice. 

“Yeah, so what? We get rid of the little shit, it’s one less charity case to feed. We’ll make it seem like he got into a fight at school or something.” Her voice was cold, but he didn’t expect it to show compassion. No, she only showed it during their ‘bonding sessions’. He fought a shudder.

 _ **“AND WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER FUCKERS LIVING HERE? IF THEY ALL GET TAKEN AWAY, OUR MONEY’LL GO FUCK ITSELF! DO YOU WANT THAT, HEIDI? OUR MONEY TO FUCK ITSELF? BECAUSE THAT’S WHERE IT’S GOING!”**_ Eric’s voice was grating at best, but now it felt like his eardrums were about to pop and bleed. He almost wanted the hitting to just start already. Bonding time was already a pain when they decided to get loud. 

“Then you might want to put him down, jackass. If his bruises look like handprints, then we really will be screwed.” Silence answered her words. Angrily, Eric shoved him into the bedframe, his back colliding awkwardly with the edges. It stung, but not as bad as it could’ve been.

He almost wanted to sigh in relief. His pallid skin bruised far too easily. The staring he’d get for each new bruise never failed to make him uncomfortable. 

Eric’s grumbling could be heard from his position at the bed, even when his attention shifted to Heidi, who approached with her standard makeup bag. This was the bag used when the other kids’ social workers were called in to inspect the house and carers. 

‘Carers’. Pfft. If these assholes could even be called that…

He winced out of his thoughts as Heidi’s hand roughly grabbed his reddened and now-bruising forearm. With practiced ease, she smeared liquid concealers and foundations, before patting it down with a powder that matched his skin tone exactly. It was almost scary how she could cover up the most prominent of evidence in such short time. 

“Don’t scratch at it or even think about using the makeup removers in the bathroom. This inspection will go well, and you won’t say anything about what happens here.” When he didn’t answer her, she looped a dainty finger through his hair and tugged. “Am I understood?”

He could only twitch his head into a nod through the pain. It was enough to get her to release him. Without a word, Heidi left, and he was alone once more. He still felt the bruises throb painfully across his body, but he knew from watching the other social workers’ visits that they never noticed. Once the social worker left, the kid they were in charge of was put into the silent room for a few days with little food or water, completely blind as the lights were cut. Thinking about it actually brought hot pain behind his eyes, as if he were going to cry but no tears would come. His throat dried, though. 

He remembers what happened to the kids that survived the silent room. 

He remembers what happened to those who didn’t. 

Just thinking about the lengths his peers would go to escape shot ice through his stomach and lungs. True fear wasn’t fear itself. True fear was walking into that room and never leaving. Death by silence. 

His jacket’s sodden material didn’t help him against the chill that had crept into his bones. It only made the shivering worse. He was going to die here, alone, cold, silent and blind. Nobody would hear him scream. Nobody would know he was gone until days later, when they finally cracked the doors open to change his food and water. 

It wasn’t Eric or Heidi who came in, though. It was always the other kids who snuck out and checked up on whoever was locked down there. Eventually, the carers would forget the kid was even in there, allowing the other kids to let the poor soul out. 

Misery clenched somewhere in his chest. He was so scared his body had started to shake. Time couldn’t be measured in these waves of panic. 

Fuck it. Nothing could be worse than this house. Nothing could be worse than watching the thing that kills you slowly come closer and closer. Anything was better at this point. He hadn’t seen his social worker in a few months, not since she’d dropped him off here, but he prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that she would see what was going on and get him the hell out of here. Fuck Eric. Fuck Heidi. Fuck this whole situation. He wanted out. 

He didn’t know how long he’d sat there, trembling uncontrollably. He didn’t know when the pain throbbing through his body had hazed into a steadying rhythm. Not even the faintest memories of desert-dry heat and a voice warmer than the sun could be reached. All that existed was the cold.

And then it vanished. 

All the fear. All the ice that had coiled painfully in his gut. All the pain and the trembling and the ‘I’m going to die here’s stopped, in its place was a warmth he thought he’d long-since forgotten. Numbness hung over his mind like a quilted blanket, and his wide eyes half-masted as exhaustion pulled temptingly. His wet jacket didn’t bother him quite as much anymore. In fact, he could barely tell it was wet. A haze had settled over him, and he didn’t quite want to leave it, so instead he relaxed into this strange mental embrace. 

If I’m lucky, it’ll take me away from this hellhole, he thought fleetingly. The haze made it hard to think anything concrete and numbed most of his emotions until all that remained was a pleasant buzz. He knew it was probably a bad thing to be reduced to such a state, but he hadn’t smelled anything in the room even in his panic, so he figured he couldn’t possibly be high.

He pointedly ignored the floaty feeling filling his limbs.

Distantly, he thought he could hear the downstairs door open. Hummed-like noises drifted through the floorboards, lulling him further into his reverie. Soft footsteps trailed upon the stairs, creaking the floorboards in ways only a foreigner could. Still, he didn’t move. He didn’t think he even could. He tried moving his fingers, but they wouldn’t obey his command. 

Maybe he should be worried…

He didn’t get a chance to hold on to that thought before it, too, faded into nothingness. 

His room’s door clicked open, revealing a Heidi trailed by someone he could barely recall but could only assume was his social worker. When he laid eyes on the official-looking woman, he could’ve sworn the feeling of utter peace and calm came from her…

“Alright, sweetie,” He didn’t recall a time Heidi had ever called him something so fake, but he didn’t have the energy to refute it, “Laura’s here to check up on you. Remember to call if you need anything.” He translated her words into ‘Don’t screw this up. Or else.’ The social worker, Laura, frowned, her eyes taking in his lack of reaction. Heidi must’ve noticed, because he could hear her whisper a soft ‘it’s been a hard day’ as if that was supposed to mean anything. Laura, though, just nodded with one of those looks that’s supposed to be understanding but he could tell she didn’t believe a word of the bullshit they must’ve tried feeding her. 

That makes you smarter than most, he thought, hope flaring warm and bright in his gut where the floaty feeling was at its greatest. 

Soon, it was just the social worker standing in the doorway, watching Heidi’s retreating back until the footsteps were coming from the floor below. He watched her enter the room, softly closing the door behind her. It was a far cry from earlier, when the carers had slammed the door shut after Eric’s temper tantrum.

Her footsteps were as gentle as she was, a glide barely touching the floor as soft golden curls bounced behind her. He watched her sit on the bed across from him and take out a notepad with a pencil and a water bottle from her bag. Even in the wan light coming from the cheap bulb overhead, the skin visible glowed. Her entire being radiated an incredible feeling of safe and warmth and home. He’d almost forgotten those could be feelings. He’d gone so long without any of it that he…

It was enough to make him cry.

Laura paused in her assembly of items that were probably for the interview and stared at him long enough for him to think how stupid he was being, even as the tears wouldn’t stop leaking from his impossibly-dark eyes. He didn’t sob (thank God), but he couldn’t reign in this sudden urge to surrender to the pain and flares of white-hot rage spiking viciously through the pleasantness that had kept him company this past while. 

A dainty hand rested gently on his shoulder and he realised Laura had moved to sit beside him on his own bed. The hand shifted so now she’d embraced him from the side, pressing his face into her shoulder. She didn’t speak, she didn’t look down at him with disgust or pity or whatever else adults seemed to think kids like him needed at that point. She just held him while his body shook once more, and his eyes let out a river-worth of water. His hands had clenched at the front of her pretty soft blouse as if it were a lifeline. Everything felt like too sudden, too much, too everything and he didn’t know what to make of it. Instead, he leaned in when one of Laura’s hands reached up and stroked his hair and let that feeling of home envelope him like a second skin. 

He let everything that’s happened these past few months play back in his mind, letting all the wall-tosses and starve-filled days run across the front of his mind.

The he let it all go. It was almost as if there were another presence in his head with him, pillowing his head much like the shoulder his moistened face seemed to be buried in. The presence felt a lot like Laura.

“How are you doing that?” He rasped, voice muffled but still legible through the impossibly-soft material bunching under his cheek. He could almost feel the smile warming his mind through her answer.

“It’s just what I am,” Her voice was so gentle, so soft. It brought more tears to his eyes, “I was born like this, Keith. I can tell you were too. You always could tell when I was near,” She let out a soft breath that brushed past his exposed ear. It was gentle, just like her, “I need you to show me your arm, Keith.”

Keith complied, letting the afflicted arm dislodge from Laura’s blouse and stretch out for her. He did it without thinking. Instinctively, he knew this was one adult that wouldn’t ever hurt him—

Her hand brushing against hidden bruises made him wince.

Maybe not on purpose, then.

She seemed to sense there was something there she couldn’t see, so she brought the limb further into the light, even with one hand still embedded in Keith’s hair. He thought of the manhandling that had happened earlier and saw the moment Laura’s mouth curled into a faint frown. An image of Laura going through her bag brushed past his still-hazy mind a brief moment before Laura enacted the scene. It was slightly jarring, but not unwelcome. As long as the floating feeling stayed long enough to get out of this hellhole, Laura could do anything she wanted. He didn’t want her to leave him here. 

Childish thoughts of abandonment were brushed over with a gentle prod along the back of his head. Keith glanced back up at Laura’s face, half-masted eyes drooping slightly. It really had been a long day. Laura seemed to smile apologetically before grabbing the afflicted limb once more and wiping some weird moist cloth over the area Heidi had applied the waterproof makeup. In seconds, the ugly mottled blues and blacks were made visible. 

Keith marvelled at how it hadn’t even hurt that much. 

His mind flashed back to his bath time the night before, when it had hurt to even brush his abused ribs with the washcloth. Laura’s eyes filled with worry and an image of her lifting his shirt to have a look was sent askingly through his thoughts. He nodded lazily, head filled with cotton balls. 

His arms were awkward as he tried to move them to life his shirt. When Laura saw the bruises, her eyes took on a hard glint. It took him a moment to realise Laura’s eyes were the same colour as his. It was the only similarity they shared.

Tumbling thoughts reminded him of the silent room and the mess the last couple of kids had made when they’d killed themselves after their adjoining social worker had paid a visit. It reminded him why he wanted to get out so bad.

“P-please,” Keith tried to speak around his leaden tongue, “don’t leave me here. I d-don’t want to die.” His head spun as the room around him decided to do acrobatics. Laura was quick to catch him when his body began to tip off the bed. She held tight until the spinning stopped and the presence in his mind was nothing more than a faint caress. She seemed to whisper apologies— at least Keith thought she did. It was hard to tell through the buzzing in his ears. 

“… Yes, I have it on good authority that these people have been murdering the children in their care.” Her voice finally filtered through. He belatedly realised she was on the phone, speaking through the microphone in her headphones. The back of his head was nestled in the frills of her blouse, one of her arms hooked securely over his torso. The world seemed to settle around him.

“I don’t care about protocol. I need a squad down here… No, I’m not joking. I have evidence.” Laura’s soft murmurings were accompanied by gentle caresses brushing the hair from his forehead. Thinking became a lot easier the longer he took to simply breathe. 

This is it, he thought, we’re going to be free. 

He didn’t even have the energy to smile.

“Thank you, Chris. I owe you big time.” Laura’s relief was palpable. She took the hand brushing his hair and used it to disconnect the call. There was a beat of silence.

“Do you know where they take the bodies?” She asked, voice small. He could understand the sentiment. His nod brought a shudder through her frame.

“How do you know?”

Keith had to clench his teeth. A roiling sense of nausea reared its ugly head, but he shoved it aside to answer. 

“I was considered a trouble case pretty early on,” He paused, shame clawing at his throat, “so they made me and this other kid bury them in a mass grave.” At her horrified gasp, he figured he should probably give her the full picture before it came back to bite him in the ass. “We were also on clean-up duty before he was stuck in the silent room too. Then it was just me cleaning out all the guts and stuff.”

Keith looked up to see her dismay. Her angelic face was creased into varying expressions of pain, as though his experiences anguished her. A large part of him hated himself for doing that to her. Still, he braved on. This was important. She had to know how grateful he was for her coming.

“I was going to be next. Later today, after you left. They were going to put me in the silent room and have some other kid on clean-up.”

In response, Laura could only tighten her arms around him. This closeness was a novelty, but it still brought great comfort. It reminded him he wasn’t going to die just yet. Sure, he’s had a pretty shit time being alive so far, but that didn’t mean he wanted to die. 

It really hit him how he wasn’t going to die anymore.

He wasn’t going to die.

I’m not going to die…

The intense emotion that rose up at that thought almost brought him to tears again. It was so strong that he barely noticed Laura leaning so he was only supported by her arms at his shoulders.

“Hey, Keith. Let’s take off this jacket. It’s still soaked through. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Instead of telling her that he didn’t get sick, he complied with her request. Shrugging out of his jacket, his moist exposed skin prickled into goose bumps. Laura instantly relieved herself of her work jacket, slipping Keith’s arms through the sleaves and rubbed them to warm him up. When she deemed him warm enough, she scooted and nudged him so he could lean on her again. A bone-deep exhaustion accumulated from the past few months pulled his eyelids shut. 

“It’s safe to sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.” Her voice really was angelic.

Instead of voicing that out, Keith only mumbled a slurred ‘okay’ and relaxed against her. That feeling of home and safe and warm came back, cocooning him in its welcome embrace. He didn’t fight the feeling of his head filling with cotton, nor the way his ears tuned everything out as if he were underwater. 

He let himself be carried into oblivion, content with the soft presence blanketing his mind.


	2. It Thaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Directly continuing from last chapter. We now see a bit of what Keith's had to go through under the _care_ of Eric and Heidi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say "update soon"? 
> 
> I meant "Whenever this chapter decides to stop fucking with me", easily translatable to "CONCEPTS OF TIME MEAN NOTHING WHEN WRITING FANFICTION"
> 
> Also, if y'all see any references, please feel free to name them in the comments down below. I'm curious about how many people get them. There's heaps, so I eagerly await your responses.

Warm murmurs reached him from his nest of scratchy sheets, rousing him from his surprisingly deep sleep. The voices weren’t coming from beside him, he checked through bleary vision and an uncomfortable urge to use the bathroom. A shower sounded nice right about now. Crawling from his sanctuary from the world, Keith took stock of his person. 

_She never took her jacket back…_ Keith thought with a barely-there sense of wonder. The jacket had stayed soft even after sleeping in it – something his own jacket never seemed to accomplish regardless of how many times he wore it. It even still smelled like the perfume she’d been wearing when Laura first walked into the room. _It smells nice_ , he couldn’t help but think, sweet flowery scents tickling his nose. A brief glance around the room didn’t help him find his jacket. He ignored the slight feeling of being naked without it out of his mind, instead choosing to focus on the murmuring he thought he’d heard earlier that turned into real speech. Now that he was above the covers muffling outside noises, he could make out the words from outside his door.

“Did you find anything else?” That was Laura. She sounded strange, like the words were hard to utter. Keith strained his ears from his position on the bed. He didn’t want to step on the floorboards and alert anyone he was awake. A male voice answered Laura in a deadpan.

“Methane tanks were hooked up to the anechoic chambers. The paddings had trace samples of at least fifty kids who are currently labelled ‘runaways’. Some of them hadn’t been seen since the 90’s. Congratulations, you’ll no doubt be getting a bonus for this.” There wasn’t any sarcasm. It was as if the person giving the news was tired and stating the facts to leave as soon as he could. Keith couldn’t blame him. Too bad Laura didn’t see it that way.

“A bonus is the last thing on my mind. What about the bodies? Kid said there were bodies buried nearby.” Impatience wasn’t something he thought she was capable of, so Keith just chalked it up to a day for learning.

“We couldn’t find anything around the house. Your boy’s going to have to lead us to the mass grave.” The man’s voice was unapologetic, but it did grow softer. A sick feeling attacked his stomach and his fingers and toes felt frozen. Unwavering guilt stabbed through him even with the instantly calming presence brushing his consciousness through the panic. He recognised Laura even with the feeling being so rare. Keith waited to be called out and be sent into the cool evening to search for decaying corpses, especially with the lack of rain pelting his window. When nothing happened, he huffed. Despite his anxiety, he really didn’t see the need to protect him from this, especially when he the reason those kids were buried so well. 

With practiced ease, he slipped out of the ridiculously plush jacket and made his way over to the door, making as much sound as possible. No more voices drifted through, but there weren’t any footsteps so that meant they hadn’t left.

Still, it didn’t make approaching the adults any easier. 

He nudged the door open, internally cringing at the creaking hinges from months of the carers slamming it whenever he had a ‘bad attitude’. Laura’s presence was quick to ease the fear from his mind. It helped. A lot. 

A peek out into the hallway revealed the man he heard talking leaning against the other wall with crossed arms and closed eyes. Turning his head to the left revealed Laura in a similar posture. She was already looking at him. 

Her expression was so… _sad_ …

Without thinking too much on it, he stepped fully out of the doorway and held her jacket out for her. He averted his eyes, not wanting to piss off the one person who could get him out of here. Yes, he knew it was futile. Yes, he knew it was too late at this point. No, he didn’t care, thank you very much.

Laura took back the jacket. Her expression had smoothed out and he thought he saw a small smile ghosting her lips from the corner of his vision. It made him feel less like a mistake. 

“I had your jacket cleaned. It should still be in the dryer downstairs,” Her voice attracted the man’s attention, but Keith kept his focus on the woman in front of him. He nodded stiffly, still not used to adults being _nice_ to him unless they wanted something from him. The presence in his mind prodded gently, as if playfully offended at the thought. He didn’t know such an emotion could be playful, but whatever. Dead bodies were waiting.

“I’ll take you,” He said. When his words were met with blank stares, he felt the urge to add, “to the bodies.”

Laura’s face slacked, as if he said the dumbest thing in the whole world and was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even the guy stared. Keith felt uncomfortable in the attention, but he knew he had to push through. The faster this was taken care of, the sooner he could _get out of here_. Suddenly, a hand was placed atop his shoulder. It didn’t make him flinch. He knew this hand wouldn’t hurt him. He knew this person wouldn’t hurt him. Still, he stared defiantly up into eyes that resembled the insides of a blue sandstone – the kind that he liked to look at on google images at school. Before he could get lost in almost cat-like pupils – too much like his own – he blurted, “It’s the same place they’ve been using since before I even got here. It’s just past the house’s back fence, a little ways off. You wouldn’t see it unless you knew what to look for. I know what to look for. Please. If I can just—”

“No. Absolutely not.” Laura’s voice was absolute. It wasn’t hard, he didn’t think it could ever get there, but it was upset. “I’m not letting you be used as some sort of sniffer dog. The police have ways to find this out—”

“No they don’t!” Keith butt in. He knew the lengths these _‘carers’_ went through to hide their actions. “They soak them after they die so they don’t smell like bodies anymore. The dogs won’t be able to find them!” He desperately hoped she would understand. He had to help if this whole mess would be cleaned up and they could all _leave_. Thankfully, the other guy seemed to be on the same page.

“I say we let him help, Lor.” His voice was as empty as it was during the conversation through the door. Still, Keith felt some amount of apprehension when Laura hissed _‘Chris!’_. 

_So this was the guy Laura called…_

Chris stood by his words, straightening up and looking directly at Keith, as if assessing him inside and out. He shrugged off Laura’s horror, instead addressing it head-on, “Kid, if you’re ready, we’ll need you to show us the grave,” his attention shifted to Laura, “I’ll need you to stay close-by. We don’t want any live ones when we’re through.” Keith didn’t know what he meant by _‘live ones’_ , but he didn’t want Laura to come. He didn’t want her to see how bad it was. Her presence in his mind told him he had nothing to worry about, that she’d seen worse. Still, this whole thing only made him feel worse.

He really didn’t think that was possible.

“I’ll get my shovel.” Keith mumbled, quick to return to his room and pull up several floorboards. The adults peeked in at the noise. Both made noises of surprise when Keith protruded an old slightly-rusted whole body shovel from the mess. He stood without putting the boards back into place and approached the doorway.

“Alright, I’m ready.” His expectation seemed to jolt the adults out of whatever reverie they seemed to be in. They moved aside so he could pass and he led the way downstairs. When they got to the landing between floors, Laura’s hand landed on his shoulder, pausing him in his trek. 

“You don’t have to do this,” she said, “We can find another way. Get a few psychics in, interrogate the carers. You don’t have to go through with this.” She sounded so earnest it made his heart clench a little. Still, he remained resolute. 

“I buried them. It’s only fair that I dig ‘em back up.” He didn’t wait for a response. It was painful enough knowing what he’ll find. Dragging it out just seemed like torture. Before he could move further down, though, Chris spoke.

“We won’t make you dig them up, just mark out the general areas of interest. Our people will do the rest,” Chris moved to stand in front of him, but didn’t reach out or touch him. Keith appreciated that. “We don’t want to scar you anymore than you’ve already gone through. After you take us to the area, I’ll have Laura contact one of our safehouses. She says you’ve got a few talents, unlike us common folk.” The older man’s voice grew soft, calm, understanding. For the first time in a long time Keith recognised genuine concern on an adult’s face. “You’ll be safe there. Just trust us to get you there. We ain’t the system, kid. We’ll do our job right.”

Nebulous eyes met generic human blue. They were flat, like everything he said was so simple it was _fact_. Keith decided to have a piece of him believe in these words spoken by a man he might never meet again. It was a small piece, but it was enough. It was enough to square his shoulders, enough to let him _believe_ that it’s going to be alright. It was more than enough to cement his resolve to _do this right_. Laura’s mind connected to his confirmed freedom’s imminence. He had to believe it was true, or everything would crumble and fall around him.

“Okay,” He said. His head nodding seemed more natural, now. A sense of warmth not related to the hovering presence in his psyche bloomed in his chest, right next to his heart. Keith led the rest of the way down the stairs, stopping only when he reached a narrow door next to the staircase. He took a rusted key out of his pocket, slotting it into an equally rusty lock. He couldn’t help but shudder when an earthen scent wafted from the small dark niche beyond, but he didn’t back down from getting a pair of mud-caked boots that lay near the entrance. He didn’t bother locking it again, instead offering the key to Chris, who silently took it and dropped it into a sealable plastic bag. 

Keith led the way through an adult-ridden house to the back door, not letting himself look to his _‘carers’_ who were now seated at the kitchen table with two armed police officers. It didn’t mean he missed the muttered _‘you little shit’_ that came from Eric’s mouth or the way one of the officers reached for his belt in warning. 

Outside the door, the mud-slicked ground was littered with more adults. They wore casual outfits of varying degrees, but each one had a neon yellow belt sashed across their chest. Chris stopped him on the doorstep with a hand on his shoulder while Laura went over to a trio of adults with neon sashes, her hair glinting in the wan lighting. The adults spoke for a moment before they all seemed to agree on something and walk back over to the door. Chris seemed to anticipate this, but bile rose in Keith’s throat as his mind travelled to what he’d be doing in the next few minutes.

“Everything in order?” He asked, voice emotionless. The void tone helped Keith calm his nerves and thoughts somewhat. Laura glanced down at him with a worried gaze before answering. 

“The teams are ready for extraction. No wards are in place yet, so we might encounter some live ones. We have a speeder nearby to get Keith out if it gets bad.” Her voice was so earnest Keith didn’t even bother getting rankled at her words. His thoughts earned him a grateful nudge in his psyche. Despite not knowing half of what she said, he could tell she was just trying to help. He didn’t often encounter that in adults. Chris just nodded, not taking his hand off of Keith’s shoulder. In fact, the grip seemed to tighten. Keith shook off the brief flash of anxiety that reared up at that. He supposed it was some generic form of support, given he couldn’t remember the last time tactile contact could mean such a thing. 

“We have our tasks then. We should go before the rain starts up again.” Chris drawled. Keith’s face remained impassive. He just wanted to get this over with. 

Keith followed the adults as they walked to the backyard’s outskirts, hailing people over as they went. By the time they got to the planked fence, there were easily twenty adults behind them. Without needing to be asked, Keith shuffled to the front of the group and reached for a thin rope dangling from one of the planks. When he tugged, several of the planks split in half and the bottom half lifted. There was enough room for Keith and two other kids to fit side-by-side, and tall enough for someone just taller than himself to duck through. Still, the adults seemed discontent with this, several of them groaning. Keith ignored them in favour of coiling the wire around a latch that seemed to jut from the base of the fence and ducking through, dragging his shovel behind him. He waited half a minute on that side until realising nobody was going to follow. Ducking his head through, he gave everyone an unimpressed scowl.

“Are you guys coming?” His reappearance seemed to snap the group out of whatever reverie they’d had, but they didn’t come any closer to the opening. His expression changed into confusion. “What?”

Laura elbowed Chris, earning herself a raised eyebrow for her efforts. When he made no effort to move, she huffed and ducked down, easily crawling through the entrance in her flats. Her perfect hair didn’t fall from its position, staying neat and gleaming in its off-centre bun. When she joined Keith on the other side, she peeked her head back and gave everyone a cheeky grin. “You losers coming?” It was incredibly juvenile. Her covered knees had mud on them and her shoes were probably ruined and her hands probably got a gazillion germs on them and she’d need a really good soap bar to clean it all off, but she was just crouching there, _smiling_ , with that weird little gleam in her eyes that Keith thought was a taunt more than anything. Seeing an adult act that way, especially someone so beautiful, was so jarring it earned a huffed laugh from him. He nearly laughed again when one of the other adults groaned and began to move for the opening as well. Soon enough, everyone had exited the property and were crowding around the hole in the fence like they couldn’t believe it existed. Keith had to roll his eyes. Adults could be pretty stupid.

“This way,” Keith turned and walked in a seemingly random direction. He didn’t bother waiting for the grownups, knowing that their longer legs would help them catch up. Keith wondered if he’d ever grow that tall, if he lived long enough to even grow. A sick feeling settled in his stomach, weighing uncomfortably as it roiled and frothed, basking in his unease. The idea of leaving this place hadn’t fully settled. It was still sitting in that pit of self-doubt and toxic thoughts, being eaten up with ‘what-if’s and damning resignation that regardless of what happened today, his life was still forfeit. 

All adults were the same. With the exception of his dad and Laura, who’d only ever tried to show understanding and acted like the complete opposite of how other kids described their social workers, the adults had only ever oppressed and destroyed their wards’ sense of self. Bonding time could easily be called ‘nightmare fuel’. There was even a time where it meant ‘the oven smells funny’ to the younger kids. Keith couldn’t even pretend to be unfazed. 

The presence in his mind that had sat on the cusp of his consciousness thus far seemed to be gone, as such, the darkness it had been holding back filled his thoughts. The flood came slowly until he felt like he was drowning in despair. Bile ate away at his throat. Keith didn’t remember the last time he ate – some time last night, maybe? – but he was glad. He’d hate to upchuck an unnameable meal he had no chance in recalling. He didn’t even know if he’d get food after this. 

Without realising it, Keith had stopped at the edge of a short cliff. It wasn’t too big – just taller than himself – but it was enough where he had to sit down and jump from a lower height to avoid breaking something. The other kid he used to do this with was a lot bigger then him and had a habit of helping Keith down from the ledge with a bag of bodies in the other hand. He’d had a plan to get out, like most kids who called their social worker. He hadn’t seen the tonic slipped into his soup that night, nor the dark looks the carers had tossed each other. Keith had, but the other guy…

There’s a reason his guts were all over the quiet room a couple days later. 

Nearby footsteps jolted Keith out of his musings. Without looking behind him, he tossed the shovel forward and clambered down shortly after. He landed on rough dirt. Dust motes sprung up with every shift of his feet, clinging savagely to chapped skin as his hands clasped the shovel. He was glad he hadn’t brought his jacket with him, washing it again so soon would’ve been a pain. The superficial thought helped keep him going. They distracted him from anxious musings that ranged from ‘please don’t let there be zombies’ to ‘they’re going to toss me down as well. I’m next.’

Sounds of heavy bodies thumped behind him, causing the sick feeling to spike. He had to remind himself that adults were heavy and clumsy, like Eric when the carer got really mad at him. It was almost sad how violence directed at him helped him calm down. Feeling his breathing get under control, he managed to fight the urge to vomit while walking further from the cliff. He heard several adults complaining behind him but didn’t hear Laura or Chris so he ignored them. Just a little further and they’d arrive. 

By now, Keith’s pants were completely coated in a thin layer of ash and dust. The ash was, according the last kid, from when Eric and Heidi burned the kids alive when they brought strays to the house. They’d roast the animals too, then make the kids eat them as a last meal. It was why the carers had gotten a new oven shortly after Keith had arrived at the home – they couldn’t hide the stench of singed hair or cooked bile from any future social workers, having only barely tricked Laura when she dropped him off. _The oven smells funny_ , Keith scoffed, _what a joke_. 

“Ugh, what is this stuff? It’s like something you’d find in an urn.” One of the adults loudly grouched. Keith turned to see the others glancing at each other uneasily. He figured he might as well tell them.

“That’s because it is,” At the blank stares he received, he added, “It’s ash. They burnt some of the kids alive. Try not to breath it in.”

The sounds of quiet retching and looks of horror were enough to remind Keith that, no, this was not normal and he shouldn’t be able to say that shit with a straight face, let alone actually mean it. 

Whatever. They were at the spot, anyways. Keith told them as such.

“So, where are they?” Chris asked, his face a little pale after learning of what now clung to his clothes. Keith didn’t blame him. Instead of verbally responding, he raised his shovel and begun to dig down. The dirt was surprisingly soft under the thick layers of ash that ranged another few meters, but it was still hard work doing this alone. The other kid used to do this part faster. 

It was strange how he’d memorised this spot. For most, it would be impossible to remember the exact area, let alone where to even begin digging. There was something about the amount of death that rot beneath the dirt that drew Keith near, as if he belonged down there with the festering bacteria that ate away at skin and muscle down to the bone. He felt the pull on his being and wanted to respond in kind. Being this close while so mentally raw was almost crippling, but he kept digging. He dug in front of adults who will never understand, who will never _want_ to understand, the pain and the trauma living under the _perverted care_ these people had placed over countless children. He dug until his shovel clanged against the heavy-duty bunker lid that could hold out against a nuclear bomb, protecting its decaying residents in their final resting place. 

He only stopped digging when a resounding clang answered from the other side of the lid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck.
> 
> Uhh okay so tell me what you think? 
> 
> I planned on what the next chapter's going to be like, but I only really write these chapters in class (I go to university so every class can range from 1 hour to 3), so be prepared for a lengthy wait if personal angst and finals decide to kick my ass again. 
> 
> I've also noticed that my writing style is slowly improving into what it used to be. It's definitely better than last chapter, in terms of prose and action processes. I originally took on this project to get back into writing, so it's really going to be bad until it's good. It's a practice fic, I guess. *shrugs*
> 
> Also, last chapter's end notes are popping up here, so I'm not too sure what that's about. I'm so sorry guys I have no idea how to fix it.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's chapter 1! 
> 
> If you have time, please comment and tell me what you think. I'll try to respond to all comments, and I'll also try to finish this story (mostly since it's so sad and I'll get mega sad if I don't finish such a heartwrenching fic and give Keith a happy ending -- that's if there is a happy ending. The Jury's still out on that one...).
> 
> I hope all you lovelies have an amazing New Year and please, enjoy all there is life has to offer you and more. You all deserve the world.
> 
> ~Doll


End file.
